The Christmas Winchester
by onemorehandmedown
Summary: Unfortunately, the creatures that lurk in the dark don't recognise Christmas. They most certainly do not take a break for it. Wee-chester.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything connected with it, that would be Kripke and co.

A/N: Yes, I know, Christmas has been and gone. But this has been bouncing around my head for ages, only problem was I couldn't work out how to finish it. Now I have and I just couldn't wait until next Christmas to post it! This is my first wee-chester story, hope I've done ok.

A/N 2: Thanks for all the nice reviews for 'Crazy?'. A few of you requested a continuation or sequel and I am working on something. Stay tuned!

* * *

**The Christmas Winchester **

**Part 1**

It was Christmas Eve. Most ten year old children were tucked up in bed by ten pm, too excited to sleep as they thought about the presents that were sure to be waiting for them the next morning. Even most fourteen year olds were looking forward to a day of family fun and gift giving, some helping to keep the wool firmly over the eyes of their younger siblings. Not Sam and Dean Winchester. There were no bright decorations in their dingy motel room, no tree, no presents. The heating was broken and the two boys huddled together in Dean's bed for warmth. The television was on but it was little more than background noise as they both stared at the door and silently prayed to anyone who would listen that their father would come back to them in one piece.

The night wore on. Sam was the first to fall asleep, secure in the knowledge that his brother would protect him from anything and everything that wished him harm. Dean laid awake watching the door and trying to ignore the pain in his belly, glad that Sam was not awake to hear it growling. It had been a week since their father left on this latest hunt and what little money he'd left for the boys had run out the day before. Their food supply was dwindling. For the Winchester boys the notion of a Christmas feast was nothing more than a pipe dream; Dean would go without so that Sam could have at least two half decent meals and possibly a small third one if the food they had left would stretch that far. Sam wouldn't know this of course – Dean would think of some excuse for not eating with his brother, just as he'd done twice today. He just hoped Dad would be back before he had to resort to stealing food. Dean didn't like to steal, unless it was via a fraudulent credit card from a bank with more money than anyone could know what to do with, but he would rather get food at a five finger discount than let Sam starve.

By midnight exhaustion was taking over him and Dean began to drift off, lulled by the steady rhythm of Sam's breathing.

He was shaken abruptly from his half asleep state by the sound of breaking glass. It was difficult to see in the dim flickering light exactly what it was that climbed through the broken window, except that it was big, much bigger than either of the boys, and it most certainly was not human. Dean's hand closed on the gun beneath his pillow. He didn't want to shoot if he could help it, the noise would bring about all kinds of unwanted questions, but he wouldn't hesitate to do so if the thing went anywhere near Sam. He silently cursed whoever had designed the room for putting the door and window opposite each other, making it impossible for him to put himself between Sam and all means of entry.

The thing crept closer on silent feet. Dean's protective instincts went into overdrive and he edged closer to Sam, wrinkling his nose as he was hit with the stench emanating from the thing. Whatever it was, it sure could do with a bath. The foul odour made Dean want to puke.

Sam began to stir and screamed at the top of his lungs when he opened his eyes to find the creature standing over him. Apparently it didn't appreciate the noise because it growled and swiped at Sam's torso, nicking Dean's arm in the process, before cuffing Sam in the head, knocking him out. This in spite of Dean's efforts to protect him. Dean saw red. He lifted the gun and shot the creature in the chest, but the bullet seemed to do little more than enrage it and Dean soon discovered just how deadly its claws were. It gouged his side before leaping over the bed to take a few swipes at his back. Dean bit his tongue and choked back tears at the pain but he wouldn't scream.

Despite the fact that he was in serious pain and bleeding heavily, Dean stood up and placed himself squarely between Sam and the creature. He fired the gun over and over, emptying the entire clip into the creature in random places. It was the last bullet, the one that hit the thing in the throat, that felled it.

Dean slumped down beside Sam. He was shaking and would have been happy to stay there forever but he knew that wasn't an option. They both needed medical attention, though Dean couldn't have cared less if he got any. It was Sam he was worried about. He didn't dare call an ambulance for fear of drawing attention to the fact that they had been left alone, and with a gun no less. He was wary of carrying Sam to the nearest medical clinic for the same reason, but with their closest trusted contact miles away and no means of transport other than his legs Dean didn't see that he had a choice. He opened the door and gently lifted Sam into his arms, along with one of the blankets from the bed, before walking out into the night.

It was bitterly cold outside. Every laboured breath produced a white cloud in front of Dean's face and his progress was slowed by the snow that lay thick on the ground. A few times he slipped on icy ground and nearly dropped his precious cargo. When he came across a car parked on the street and equipped with chains on the tyres he couldn't believe his luck. Admittedly it looked like a piece of crap compared with the impala, but if Dean could get it to start they would no longer be in danger of freezing to death by the side of the road.

It was easy to gain access to the car. The lock on the passenger side door was completely useless in the face of Dean's skill. He gently laid Sam on the back seat and then set about hotwiring the motor. It took a few attempts but eventually the motor sputtered into life and they were on their way.

They were headed for the home of Leticia Moore, a former doctor and friend of their father. She lived on an isolated farm about twenty five miles away and often cared for hunters who, for whatever reason, were unable to present at a hospital. She understood the way they lived and wouldn't turn the boys over to Child Services, a fate that was right up there with death in Dean's book.

It was slow going on the slippery roads. Dean didn't dare drive very fast for fear of losing control and killing them both. Apart from self preservation, every time the car so much as shuddered he was hit with waves of agony that radiated from his wounds to fill his entire body. Sam lay still and Dean kept glancing back at him and watching for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, checking he was still alive.

They had been on the road for about an hour when Dean brought the car to a stop with a string of curses. Leticia's home was located off Old Mill Road, which was little more than a dirt track and apparently not important enough to warrant salting or ploughing. There was no way Dean would be able to drive the car on it. He glanced back at his still unconscious brother and sighed, resigning himself to carrying Sam the last three miles through the deep snow.

Every step was agony. Dean was beyond cold and his clothes were soon soaked through from the snow. The movement reopened his wounds and they bled sluggishly. Sam seemed to get heavier with every passing moment and the world appeared to spin around him but he pressed on, motivated by the soft rise and fall of Sam's chest, the beating of his heart, the burning need to make sure that Sam was safe.

***

By the time he arrived on Leticia's doorstep Dean's energy was spent. He pressed the doorbell with a shaking finger and when she opened the door he nearly fell inside.

"Dean! What happened?" Leticia's concern was palpable.

"We…" Dean stopped to gasp for air. "We were attacked. I don't know what it was. Sam got knocked out, scratched up a bit too." He held Sam out to her. _Take him, look after him._

Leticia got the hint and took the ten year old into her arms. "What about you? Are you hurt?"

"Don't worry about me. Take care of Sammy first."

Leticia raised an eyebrow in disbelief but didn't challenge him.

"Fine, but the moment I finish with Sam I'm checking you out. Wait there."

Dean staggered the few steps to the chair she'd pointed out. By the time he reached it Leticia had already carried Sam into her 'treatment room' and he slumped down gratefully, no longer having a reason to hide his pain. He was so cold he found it hard to believe he'd ever be warm again and his clothes were wet with both melted snow and blood. Now that he was in the light he could see the jagged tears in his clothing and the dark stains that surrounded them, some of the stains continuing to spread as his wounds continued to bleed. Breathing was difficult and his surroundings moved in and out of focus.

But it was ok because he'd done what he needed to do. As his vision faded to black and he drifted away knowing he might not wake up, he consoled himself that Sam was safe and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Part 2 coming soon... Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, that would be Kripke and co.

A/N: A big thank you to everyone who took the time to read part 1 and especially to the two of you who took the time to review! Sammygirl1963, I hadn't really thought about bringing John into this but when I read your review it occurred to me that Leticia would really like the chance to yell at him...so I've decided to drag him in after all. Thanks for the suggestion!

A/N 2: Not sure if this is entirely medically accurate - I got some info off the net but it's a bit too late to be asking Mum questions and I really wanted to get this up tonight so apologies for any mistakes.

* * *

**The Christmas Winchester **

**Part 2**

The moment Sam woke up in Leticia's 'treatment room' he felt that something was terribly wrong. He looked around frantically for Dean and when he found his brother his heart plummeted. Leticia leant over the second of the two beds in the room labouring with a bag and mask to keep her young patient breathing. Dean was pale and still on top of the bed, his clothes torn and bloody, heat packs clustered around his upper body. Without the faint rise and fall of his chest as Leticia forced air into his lungs Sam would have thought Dean was dead.

Sam's lip began to shake. It had been two years since he learned the truth about what was lurking in the dark and he'd seen both Dean and their father beaten up on more than one occasion but he still thought of his brother as being invincible. Seeing Dean now, hovering on the brink of death, shattered that illusion. Suddenly he was gripped with a terrible fear of being left alone. Dean had been the only real constant in Sam's young life, what with all the moving around and their father often being gone on one hunt or another. They didn't even always go by the same names but always there was Dean and the security of his love and protection. Sam leapt from his bed, ignoring the pain and dizziness that assaulted him at the movement, and ran to his brother. Tears ran down his face as he begged Dean to wake up.

Warm arms encircled him and he smelt a hint of jasmine.

"Sam, honey, I know you're upset but I need you to go back to bed. I can't help Dean properly if I have to worry about you as well."

"But what if…what if he…" Sam choked on the words, "I can't leave him."

"I don't think we will lose him. He's breathing now and it looks like the heat packs are doing their job. In any case, you're both in the same room and if it looks like we're going to lose him I promise I'll tell you so you can come be with him. But right now you need to be resting and I need you out of the way."

Sam nodded mutely, tears still streaming down his cheeks, and made his way back to bed.

***

Sam lay quietly on the bed trying not to attract Leticia's attention. She kept telling him to rest but how could he rest when his brother lay dying in the next bed? Despite Leticia's insistence that Dean would be fine the sight of him lying there so pale and fragile had Sam convinced that he was in fact quietly slipping away. He had learned that Dean had collapsed after handing him over to Leticia. Shortly after his collapse he had stopped breathing and that was when Sam had woken. It had taken two minutes of Leticia labouring with the bag and mask before Dean's bruised and battered body was ready to take back that important responsibility. Sam supposed he should just be glad that his brother's heart hadn't stopped but it didn't really make him feel any better.

When Sam had woken to find his brother unconscious he had been too caught up in panic to think about anything else, consumed with the fear that at any moment Leticia might tell him that Dean was gone. Now, as he watched her tend to his brother's still bleeding wounds, he realised that Dean must have known he was in trouble. The bleeding alone would have told him that, not to mention that it would have hurt like a bitch. Yet Dean had ignored it all just to bring him to safety. Sam had always known that Dean loved him but it was only now that he began to understand just how much.

A groan broke the silence. Sam sat up eagerly and was rewarded with the vision of Dean's eyelids fluttering as he climbed towards consciousness.

Hope bloomed in Sam's heart.

***

In the hour that had passed since that first groan Leticia had sutured the worst of Sam's wounds and supplied him with clean clothes while Sam had finally convinced her to let him sit in a chair by Dean's bed. He was still wrapped in a quilt but he probably would have consented to wearing a fairy costume if that was what it took to be close to Dean.

When Dean finally woke properly Sam didn't know whether to hug him in relief or berate him for being so stupid.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly as the movement tugged on stitches in his back.

Berating him was looking like a good option. Sam couldn't believe that, after nearly dying, Dean was asking after _his_ health. He stared at Dean incredulously but couldn't stay angry. He reached forward and hugged Dean fiercely.

Dean seemed surprised. "What was that for Samantha?"

"I thought you were going to die."

"Well I didn't did I? All's well that ends well and all that."

_But what about next time?_ Sam was under no illusions. This was not the first time Dean had put himself between Sam and danger. How long would his luck hold out?

* * *

Thanks for reading! Part 3 coming soon...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, that would be Kripke and co.

A/N: Sorry for the wait. I'm not entirely happy with the way I've ended this, and I probably wouldn't be terribly upset if I never wrote John again, but it was either post it now or hem and ha over it until I die. I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

**The Christmas Winchester **

**Part 3**

"Do you know where John Winchester is?"

Pale early morning light now straggled through the curtains and Leticia, now satisfied that neither of the boys was in any immediate danger, had deemed it late enough to begin calling people in search of John. Dean didn't know how she planned to track him down – it wasn't as if he had a car phone or a CB radio. He certainly didn't have one of those cell phone things, no-one they knew did. Dean had seen them on TV and didn't know how Dad would carry one; they appeared to be modelled on house bricks. He decided that he and Sam didn't need to listen to Leticia fail.

"Merry Christmas Sammy."

Sam looked up from dealing cards for their umpteenth game of 'Go Fish'.

"Huh?"

"I said, merry Christmas Sammy. You do realise it's Christmas Day?" Dean grinned impishly. He couldn't really blame Sam for forgetting, what with having their asses handed to them by a …whatever the hell that thing was.

"Oh, yeah…right. Merry Christmas Dean."

Dean had to admit he was a little disappointed. He'd actually managed to get Sam a half decent present this year – a bunch of the comics the kid had been going on about of late. They were second hand mind you, but in good condition…and they were still hidden in the motel room. Dean somehow doubted he'd ever see them again. The room would more than likely be cordoned off for one reason or another so Dad would only hang around long enough to salvage the essentials, if someone else hadn't already carted their stuff off somewhere.

"Hey Sam, your Christmas essay is gonna be awesome this year isn't it?" Dean smirked and mimed writing in the air. "This Christmas, I was mauled by a swamp monster…"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You said you didn't know what it was. Now it's a swamp monster?"

"It stank like a swamp didn't it?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by Leticia's angry voice.

"I don't care if he's having tea with the damn Queen of England, you tell me where he is!" She was silent for a moment. When she spoke again her voice was icy. "I'm sure this hunt is very important but is it more important than his children? …Thank you. I'll call the motels in the area and if you hear from John you tell him to call me."

She hung up muttering. "Damn fool obsessive idiots!"

Sam and Dean just looked at each other in silence.

***

The day dragged on. Leticia had clearly had no luck finding John at any of the motels she'd called and her lack of success had not improved her mood. She was perfectly friendly to the boys and she gave them the best Christmas lunch either of the boys could remember having, but Dean could sense her agitation and annoyance. Dad would probably be better off if Leticia didn't find him – Dean was getting the distinct impression that at present she would like nothing better than to throttle John, which might not be such a bad thing if it kept him too busy to tear Dean a new one for letting Sammy get hurt.

It was late and Dean was almost asleep, Sam having crashed out ages ago, when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

There was a pause and when she spoke again all traces of friendliness or even mere civility had vanished from Leticia's voice, leaving Dean in no doubt as to who was on the other end.

"It's about damn time! What the hell did you think you were doing, leaving those boys alone in some flimsy motel room? ...Don't you dare! I told you two weeks ago that that _thing_ had been hanging around this area and you left those boys alone, didn't even give them a heads up about what you knew was lurking even though a grown man would be hard pressed to challenge it and live! …My _point_ is that your sons turned up on my doorstep in the wee hours of this morning after a visit from that monster …Well they're ok now but it was a close thing…"

There was more shouting but Dean pulled his pillow over his head to try and block it out. He had heard enough. Why hadn't Dad said anything? Was he merely forgetful or did he just not care?

A ball of lead seemed to materialise in Dean's stomach and he had to fight not to cry.

***

Dean didn't notice when Leticia went quiet, in fact he barely registered her entering the room and was almost surprised when she sat down on the bed beside him.

"You're awake aren't you?" She didn't wait for a reply. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. I guess I got a bit carried away." She sighed and laid a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder. He did nothing to discourage her touch.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Usually Dean got very defensive towards anyone who said so much as a word against his father but he found he couldn't be upset with Leticia, not after she had saved his life. Besides, he wasn't particularly happy with his father at that moment anyway.

"Why didn't Dad warn me?" Dean looked up at Leticia, straining to make out her face in the dark.

"I don't know. But I'm sure he never meant for you and Sam to get hurt. You can ask him, if you dare. He should be here by dawn."

It wasn't much of an answer and Dean was about to say as much but his attention was diverted by moaning and rustling from the other side of the room, as though Sam was having a bad dream.

"He keeps doing that. A couple of times I could swear he said my name." _I wish I could make it stop for him._

"He probably did. You mean the world to that boy and last night he had to face the possibility of losing you."

Dean didn't know what to say to that.

"Get some sleep. Make sure you let me have a look at those wounds before you go trying to have shower or anything in the morning. God knows what that creature had on its claws and I don't want them getting infected."

With that Leticia left the room. Dean closed his eyes but even after Sam had settled it took some time for sleep to find him.

***

It was still dark when Dean woke and the room was silent except for the faint noise of Sam's breathing. His back was killing him where it had been carved up and he was freezing cold, which made sense given that most of his blankets were on the floor. It appeared that he'd been thrashing around at some point but if he'd been having unpleasant dreams he didn't remember them. He dragged the blankets back up and hoped that he hadn't busted any of his stitches.

Dean was hovering somewhere between awake and asleep when he heard the rumbling. It was enough to startle him to full wakefulness and he sat up abruptly, something he immediately regretted as pain lanced through his back and side. How the hell had Dad managed to get the Impala all the way to Leticia's? The snow had been thick enough last night and it had only snowed more through the day. There was no further noise. Maybe he had imagined it?

Dean's training had taught him never to assume he was imagining anything without a thorough investigation to prove it. He eased himself out of bed, wincing with even the slightest movement, and made his way over to the window. Gently parting the heavy curtains he peered through. The clouds that had earlier brought snow had moved on and stars glittered in the inky black sky. From where he was standing Dean could dimly see the stack of logs Leticia kept to feed the fire in the living room. One log rested against a veranda post a few feet away, as though it had overbalanced and rolled off the main pile. It hadn't been there when Dean had looked out before bed. Perhaps that was what had made the noise? He saw nothing to suggest that Dad was here, or the car.

Dean was nudging the curtains back into place, intending to return to his bed, when he heard what was unmistakeably the sound of footsteps outside. Seconds later someone began ringing the bell and hammering on the front door fit to wake the entire state. Dean crept across the room and fumbled for his clothes. If he was going to have strips torn off him he wasn't going to suffer the further indignity of having it happen while he stood there wearing an ancient set of purple paisley pyjamas. He'd protested wearing them in the first place but, as Leticia had pointed out, it really wasn't the right time of year for sleeping naked. She had also told him in no uncertain terms that he was wearing the pyjamas whether he liked it or not and, in the interests of self preservation, Dean had complied.

As he finally got his shirt on, cursing frequently under his breath with the pain, he heard Leticia open the door. The ensuing argument confirmed that Dean had been right about the identity of their visitor. Apparently Dad wanted to just charge into the bedroom like a raving lunatic and Leticia thought the boys should be left alone and allowed to wake up when they were ready. Dean took a deep breath and headed out into the battle zone.

"What's the problem with waiting another hour or two?"

"I want to see my boys!"

"Hi Dad." Dean's voice was completely devoid of enthusiasm.

"Dean, what the hell happened? According to this howling banshee," He gestured at Leticia, "You and your brother were attacked by some Godzilla creature."

"Well, I don't know about the Godzilla part but it was big and it stank. And it had claws like steak knives." Dean stared at the ground, not wanting to meet his father's eyes and see the disappointment there.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought I told you to look out for your brother?"

"Yes sir." _And maybe if you'd given me warning of what __you knew_ _was out there I would have had more chance against it!_ He didn't dare say so out loud.

"Then what the hell happened?! I thought I taught you better than this Dean! How the hell did that damn thing get past you?!"

Dean opened his mouth to give a suitably contrite reply and Leticia looked ready to explode but they were both beaten to the punch.

"Stop!"

Sam stood in front of Dean facing their father, a sight that would have been funny if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Stay out of this Sam!"

"No!"

"Sammy please, it's ok. Just go back to bed." Dean begged.

Sam shook his head, unshed tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.

"I can't. I asked Leticia, Dean. I know what you did for me."

"Sam, I'm not going to tell you again!"

"SHUT UP!!"

For a moment there was silence. John appeared to be gobsmacked by the audacity of his youngest.

"What did you just say?"

"I said shut up! You can't say things like that to Dean. He saved my life and he got hurt way worse than I did. You weren't even there; always off on your stupid mission…do you even care about us?"

"Samuel Winchester, how dare you speak to me like that!"

Sam glared at John, apparently not at all intimidated, and Dean didn't know whether to admire the kid's nerve or fear for his life.

"I'd say he has every damn right to speak to you like that John! Dean did everything in his power to protect Sam, but he's only fourteen! I haven't actually seen this creature myself, but I've seen what it does to people and, honestly? You should be thanking Dean on bended knee for getting himself and Sam out of that motel room alive, not yelling at him for something that isn't his fault!"

"Leticia," John growled, "Stay out of it!"

"Excuse me? This is my house! I looked for you because I thought you should know your boys had been attacked. But if you think I'm going to just let you have a go at Dean and tell him that he failed at looking after Sam you must be stupider than you look! He was dying when I opened my door to him John, dying! He's so committed to keeping Sam safe that he would have given his own life, so don't you dare stand there and criticize him like he didn't do enough!"

Dean tensed, half expecting John to burst into flames. His father had never taken kindly to being yelled at or being told he was wrong. So he was surprised when John spoke quietly, in a tone that seemed to hint at fear – but he must have been mistaken because John Winchester just didn't do fear, did he?

"Dying?" John swallowed audibly.

"He had a fairly serious case of hypothermia, among other things. Sam was ok, he was wrapped in a quilt, but Dean was a little underdressed and wet through from the snow. He collapsed soon after arriving here and stopped breathing." Leticia was speaking calmly now, much to Dean's relief. John hadn't been far off the mark calling her a banshee; she could get very shrill when she was worked up.

For a moment John just stood there, staring like a stunned mullet. It was the first time Dean had ever seen his dad lost for words. Then he stepped forward and put his arms around both boys as though the yelling match of a minute ago had never happened.

"Thank God," he breathed.

At first Dean tensed in surprise, unable to remember the last time his father had held him. Slowly he relaxed into the embrace, savouring this closeness with the people he loved most in the world, unsure if he would ever experience it again. He wasn't about to pull away, despite the painful pressure on his wounds.

"Thankyou." Sam whispered, looking at his brother.

Dean just smiled in response.

_I would do it again._

_

* * *

_

Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated.


End file.
